


The Wheel of Fortune

by glimmerFae (verfens)



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Hinting at McReaper76 but not there yet, M/M, Vampire Soldier: 76 | Jack Morrison, Werewolf Jesse McCree, fairy-tale esque?? I tried, sorta based off the halloween skins but also Not
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-26
Updated: 2017-02-26
Packaged: 2018-09-27 02:21:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9945938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/verfens/pseuds/glimmerFae
Summary: An unfinished story of inhuman lovers,Recounted by their three undead hearts-There is a power to three, a power one discovers-That three together is stronger than any of its partsThe wheel of fortune is a card that defines how life changes, how nothing may ever stay the same.  And both the Reaper and Jack Morrison had forgotten how things ebb and flow, how they come and go.  Some fairy tales dont end so neatly as 'happily ever after,' as Jack, Gabriel, and Jesse find.  They prefer it that way.(shamelessly inspired from elapsue's art on tumblr)





	1. Act One

**Author's Note:**

> come yell @ me on my tumblr to finish this btw- 
> 
> @overwatch-d

The tale began not with the lovers, but with a young man serving in the army of a German king, and a witch. The two were friends at the time, and they sat beneath the elm tree that would define the man for lifetimes.

Gabriel Reyes was made of spring- who had grown up as a sprout bursting through cracks in a system made against him, but whose defining feature was hope. He was full of vitality that defined him in everything he did, everything new that he brought to the table and every thing he changed and made better.

The young man had gone to the Witch of the Wilds and sought out a fortune, in return, the witch had laid three cards beneath the protection of the elm tree, amongst the flowers on the ground.

"Judgment, the lovers, the tower." Angela had said, pleased with the results for her friend. "It appears to be a positive reading- if I had to say what the cards are trying to tell you, it seems that you will find romance, and continue to dismantle that which towers above you."

Gabriel had been pleased as well- serving in a war as he was, he was the commander of a unit and he was hopeful that he would win the war.

Love appeared, in the form of an infantry soldier that was soon brought under Gabriel's wing- who went by the name of Jack. His hair was the color of wheat fields from the farms of his youth, and his eyes promised the freedom of the open skies above.

But that could all be defined by a single word- _was._

And what was will never be again- because Gabriel Reyes went to a necromancer, and asked for the ability to end the war, for the ability to transcend mortality, and the ability that would allow him to claim the position in the army as commander, rather than captain.

And Gabriel Reyes had been a fool to trust the necromancer.

He was murdered beneath the elm tree in the fall- the true connection to the tower that he and Angela had both misread.

XXXXX

Jack Morrison is what some might call a child of summer, and Reaper is the pitiful Wight enamored with him- despite how he is a corporeal ghost that is tied to the burial mound where he was murdered, for fifty years and a day, who will drain the life of any mortal-souled being who he touches.

His only solace was that he did not become a mindless servant of that necromancer, but instead had murdered him in return for his crimes.

Gabriel Reyes was a child of spring, and the Reaper made in autumn. And now they were stuck in transition, and they were different as night and day despite still being the same- Gabriel Reyes had been the plant that had taken root and stubbornly blossomed when the odds said that he should not, while Reaper is the harsh frosts that kill all that which is tender and full of life in his path. But, regardless, he still yearns for the reach of the child of summer, Jack Morrison and his promises of love and life and warmth and happiness. Jack is the sun, and in Gabriel's death, took his place in leading them to fight the King's war.

And Reaper was trapped on that hill, until the middle of the summer, just past the solstice, when Jack Morrison decided to visit his unmarked grave.

Blue eyes the color of open skies, though they had dimmed in sorrow suddenly grew brighter as they recognized him. "Gabriel," Jack choked on a sob, caught between relief and joy and tears, running towards him and reaching back for him.

It hurt to do it to him, but Reaper couldn't let him touch his skin. Because he is a Wight, that will drain the life from all souled beings.

"I'm sorry, Jack." His voice rasped. "I can't… touch you."

The blonde man bit his lip, caught in some internal conflict where Reaper couldn't decipher what he was deciding upon. But, he closed his eyes and decided something, before he re-opened them and smiled- giving Gabriel his answer. "As long as I may be with you, Gabriel, that is more than enough for me."

And Gabriel was grateful, for the summer had reached back and grabbed him as well, and they mingled in the happy times defined by greenness and flowers and fullness, sharing in the warmth of their love- the warmth of _his_ sun.

They lay beneath the elm tree together, and as Jack handed him a flower- a bright, cheerfully yellow daisy, Gabriel was glad that he could still share in some of the pleasantness of life- it smelled wonderful.

XXXXX

Angela Ziegler used to come by once a week, to his mound. They would talk, and in the beginning she would look into changing the deal with the necromancer, but to no avail. She still visited, to give him company while Jack was away, fighting battles in far off kingdoms where Gabriel could no longer follow.

But Reaper was curious- the last reading she had done for him had panned out in brutal fashion, even though they had misread the meaning of the tower. The tower had been the very ground which Gabriel had stood on, and now he was here, trapped to his corpse, buried in the earth.

He had asked it of her, and she had brought her worn tarot cards once more. She looked at him with sad blue eyes- still reeling over her friends loss and his continued suffering.

"I'd like you to do a reading of Jack first." He murmured, wanting him to be safe, above all else.

"I don't know him that well," she replied, hesitant, "But I will try."

She was not hesitant because she didn't think she could do it, but she was hesitant because of how she was starting to get the feeling that there was something bigger than her pushing her friend down his path in life.

She laid out three cards beneath the elm tree, and hummed, breathing out quietly as she flipped over the first one, "Strength," the second, "The emperor," and then the last, "The hanged man."

The cards meant nothing to Gabriel by themselves, but he stared uneasily at the card with the upside down man hanging on a pole.

Angela bites her lip, trying to figure out how to phrase it best. "This isn't necessarily a bad reading." She murmured. "From what I can see, it means that strength in Jack's past has brought him to good point, and that resilience is finally being rewarded…but the hanged man…well, it's a mysterious card. The best thing I can recommend is for him to be wary and take some time to pause and reflect…and, well, perhaps let go of something, or sacrifice something- it means that he may change his mind."

Reaper's stomach sank- for Jack to pause and reflect, to let go of something, to sacrifice something…to change his mind…

Angela looked at him quietly. "It doesn't have to mean you, Gabriel." She tried to tell him, and he flinched as she landed so heavily upon what bothered him about that reading.

She reshuffled her deck of cards. "Are you sure you want me to do your fortune as well, Gabriel? Sometimes we are better off not knowing the future."

Reaper simply nodded. Her fortunes had so far proved to be accurate, even if they had read them wrong.

She laid out her three cards. She turned the first one over. "The fool." She mumbled, gently tapping on it. "You have made mistakes, and didn't put in the attention you needed to before. And your present," She flipped over the second, looking stricken at the sight of the card. "Is defined by the moon, meaning, something is going on, that you may not understand why it is. Or, it could mean that…you fear something may happen, that won't. But…this is a fear of your own uncertainty, meaning that its best resolved by what your future is defined by."

She flipped the last card over, and her eyes closed shut, and Gabriel stared at it, his own heart breaking at the sight.

Death.

"Add in the fact that it's paired with the moon…it most likely signals the end of a longtime emotional relationship, and… great changes in your life, emotionally speaking. It means that you're going to close the door on a previous chapter in your life."

Silence reigned for a time, before she tried to make the best of it.

"But, death combined with the fool- yes, it means…that your romantic relationship is likely about to end- but it may mean that you're about to start a new chapter in your life. Perhaps one that will lead you to new love!"

"…That's enough, Angela." Reaper's head hung low, his heart aching at the thought of the future. "Thank you, for helping. I think I know what I have to do."

"Gabriel," She tried, heart bleeding for her friend, but the pity enraged him, as did the thought of having to let go of his sunshine, of his summer.

"Begone, witch." He commanded, magic embedded in his words, eyes burning red, and Angela nodded quietly, dipping her head. She could not overstay her welcome now, and left, and somehow, Reaper was all the more miserable for it.

XXXXX

It was autumn when Gabriel breaks off his relationship with one final cold snap, as the last of the leaves fall off the elm tree he was buried beneath. Jack had said that he loved him the day before, but he understands what his and Jack's fortunes mean, together.

Jack had been gone for weeks, far from where Gabriel had pondered over his decision to do this. His sun came to the elm tree, and called, and called, and called, but to no avail.

The best way to cut this off cleanly was to simply vanish.

The wind chilled him to the bone, warning him of winter's draw, pulling him further and further from summer.

Jack, broken hearted and despondent, left a bit after that. Better for the both of them to do this now, cleanly, than to wait for Jack to feel as though Gabriel had become a burden.

A few weeks later, a young woman- younger than he, or Jack- with a blue headscarf came by, and Gabriel recognized her as Jack's best friend, Ana- an alchemist who worked underneath the king. She took out a bright blue object, the blueness from the banner wrapped tightly around it.

The object it covered made Gabriel's red eyes widen, and smoke flair from his hiding place in the tree. Ana Amari stuck the sword- Jack's sword- into the mound, and bowed her head as she held onto the hilt reverently, rubbing at the blue and gold threads around the hilt.

"I was supposed to protect you." She whispered, distraught, to the sword, before she let go, and his metaphorical heart suddenly threatened to burst open as Ana walked away, and with her, his hope that Jack's fate had been changed positively.

The Hanged man also represented self-sacrifice.

As winter settled in the air around him, and the snow began to fall, Gabriel wondered if he had in fact, led them right down the path of Angela's cards to begin with. As she had said- knowing fate sometimes meant walking straight through it despite your efforts to spite it.


	2. Act Two

The next part of the story takes place a number of years after, beneath the elm tree as well, but this does not speak of a child of summer or a man made of spring. This focuses on the boy carved by autumn.

The boy first met the Reaper long after winter took its icy grip on the world once more, when he was just a pup. A friend of the lord of the land had shot a deer, but hadn't made a shot that killed instantly- though it was a mortal wound.

And Jesse was a werewolf pup alone in the world, very hungry and completely willing to follow the injured beast until its inevitable death. He followed it deeper, and deeper into the forest, where eventually it finally collapsed onto the snowy ground, and the pup raced up to it and desperately dug his sharp, if small talons into the fur. The tips of his paws were frozen, and he just wanted them to be warm again.

He transformed back to being a human, tired of being a wolf when it wasn't even the full moon, his ears up as he began to hungrily consume at bits of raw meat with his face, only pausing to use his small hands to try and open it further.

The boy sat down next to the felled deer, getting closer and closer to the warmth of its body because he realizes he is very, very cold. He moves around some, to better sit on his mother's serape, the red fabric the only thing he had to wear, especially since he had just been covered in fur.

After a moment, an ear perked up some, and he paused with one hand mid air, his bright orange-brown eyes wide, and the blood of his prey coating his face. After a moment of sitting frozen in fear of the noise, he looked up in confusion at what he'd heard.

A tall man with a black coat, and his face obscured by red that dripped down the front of his coat as well stood by the elm tree, behind an old and rusted sword, but didn't make a move towards him. Jesse can see the Wight, for the boy is undead himself, despite how he was of another variety.

They stare at each other for a while, before Jesse brings the handful of meat to his mouth, and licks at the blood.

The man scoffs. "Silly pup." He rasps, and Jesse flattens out his ears in dislike. He's not silly- he's scary! He makes a show of going back to eating, and the man gets a bit closer, resting against the tree trunk now, watching as Jesse ate.

"You look very young to be on your own, pup." The Wight says after a moment of viewing his display. "Let me help with that." And the creature quickly went to work helping him carve up his kill, handing the boy meat as he wrapped up tighter in his mama's red serape, ears calming down as the older man began storing the parts of the beast he couldn't eat in the snow, for later, and Jesse eventually fell asleep there, curled against him.

XXXXX

Though now he wouldn't be able to tell you how, Jesse McCree, a three-year-old werewolf, woke from his nap in the woods in the cabin of a very eclectic alchemist named Ana Amari.

He'd been able to speak in small sentences, but for the most part- he'd been an absolute hassle. In fact, getting him to do _anything_ was hard for Ana at first, until she'd found the way to his loyalty through his stomach.

That was how Ana Amari, then 26 years old, had managed to make good with him, and had in essence adopted the boy. He was actually fairly developed for his age, able to tell her his name, and what had happened to his parents with ease once he actually trusted her.

Though, getting him to wear pants was an entirely different matter.

The plucky child, carved by the harshness of the autumn months he was born in, just after the harvest, was determined to make friends with the grim reaper.

He returned to the elm tree that spring, and with a wooden sword, ran up and decided that he wanted to fight the Reaper, and he'd lost without the older man ever picking up the rusted sword with the faded hilt.

Interestingly, the man now wore a bone mask over his face, and he vaguely recognized the scent of it to belong to a deer- and if his nose isn't mistaken, it smells of Jesse too. Perhaps it was that same deer that he'd eaten when he first met him.

"Miss Ana can't see you." The boy-turned-teen said one day, humming as he sat by the elm tree, watching as the older woman played with a toddler, his ears hidden beneath a hat, even though the wolf was better about hiding his canine nature so as not to scare his little sister.

"She's human." He explained in an amused rasp, watching the scene as well. "You're not."

Their exchanges happened in pieces over the years, and he learned much of the Reaper in that time- up until he was 27 and angry at the world for taking his adopted mother from him.

She'd been 50, and Jesse had been heartbroken over the loss of her. Fareeha was still young, and she had decided to go into the kings army even though their mother had disapproved of it. She had died to the enemy of their king, and it spurred on Fareeha's will to fight and avenge her.

But Jesse, it crushed. He'd lost his first mother many years before, shortly before his third birthday. Ana had confided in the boy that nothing good ever came of autumn. Europeans associated it with the harvest and abundance of food, but Ana associated it with death and sorrow, just as Jesse did.

He left the village, and the mound where Gabriel Reyes had died; wanting to forget his troubles and reflect. He'd not been the greatest son, had gotten into all sorts of trouble, but now Ana was dead.

In the wanderings of Jesse McCree, he happened upon a blonde witch and her strange vampiric companion, who didn't do much but shuffle around behind her, clearly irritated by the sun but not saying anything to the witch.

"Want your fortune told?" She asked, and Jesse was lost, and looking for a path forward. Ana had always told him that while god wouldn't necessarily approve of these things, he would forgive them for indulging in them every now and again. As long as I'm good elsewhere, God will know that I am only human, she had believed.

Jesse agreed, and the witch of the wilds placed out before them, on the bar top, three cards. She flipped them over one by one, and then spoke. "Your past is defined by the devil," She explained, looking over him with curiosity. "You liked your vices- perhaps a bit too much. But it also can mean that certain chains have been broken," She hummed, and raised an eyebrow at him suspiciously. He shrugged and put his hands up, because he couldn't say no, that wasn't him.

"The hermit," She tilted her head some and rubbed her gloved pointed finger over the card. "In present position- you're alone. But that's not bad. You may be reflecting on your past, on your mistakes and the choice's you've made so far. It may also not just be you who is alone."

For a moment, Jesse thought he saw her eyes turn to the vampire with her, but then the moment passed, and she looked at the last card with interest. "Temperance is what is in your future position- debatably, one of the best outcomes for that spot. It's a sign of good things to come, of balance. Combined with the hermit and the devil, though, it could mean you need to stop going down a path of vices, and become more balanced in your life, or you risk forever being alone."

"Huh." He looked at the worn cards. "So, I'd gotten readings done before, but they all did other types of readings, uhm, with 5 cards. What's with three?" Jesse asked, some form of natural curiosity to him, but also a healthy degree of suspicion of magic.

The witch of the wilds dwelled in thought for a moment, as she took her cards back and reshuffled her deck, and then explained. "There is power to threes, Jesse McCree. They're a very natural human pattern- for example, Life, birth, death- Father, son, holy ghost- past, present, future," Sparkling blue eyes met rich brown ones. "Some might even say it's a number preferred by magic because of how much we like it," And this time, Jesse knew he couldn't be imagining the woman's pointed look at the vampire, as she said, "And the common phrase is, the _third_ time's the charm."

He thought on that for a moment- three was very much important, even to him. He'd been three years old when he'd first met Gabriel, and now he was thirty. It could be coincidence, of course, but some parts of it made very, very good sense.

"Thank ya kindly, Miss Angela," He tilted his hat at her in farewell, and she and the vampire left the bar with a final goodbye.

Was someone else alone…? Perhaps, but Jesse wouldn't know unless he asked, and he still needed time to think, though he believed he'd need less time now than before. After all, Jesse knew what sort of things life was capable of- he didn't have the strength to grow like those of spring, or the vitality and brightness belonging to those born in summer. No, he had the patience and tenacity of the youth who are harvested and culled in the autumn, where in his youth he would have to resort to stealing the food off of other's tables simply to eat.

XXXXX

3 years after Jesse McCree left Gabriel Reyes, 3 years spent mourning the death of his second mother, he returned home and found a wight standing by the sword again, seeming lost for what to do. Jesse did a bit of mental math as Reaper warily eyed him, and he recalled that Gabriel's binding to the tree was almost over.

"Hello, Jesse." Gabriel greeted after a moment, and Jesse nodded as he grins.

"Heya, Gabe. It's good to see you." Jesse was a pup no longer, no longer curled up alone, and also no longer coming by to play with the man. He'd grown, tall and strong, his brown hair long, his mother's serape finally the right size for him.

"Good to see you as well." Gabriel said, voice relatively neutral beneath the deer mask that still smelled like him, somehow. It had been years since Jesse had seen him last- it made sense that he were somewhat nervous of Jesse's presence after all this time.

"I won't be leavin' again. I think I finally know what it is I want." Jesse nodded, grinning. "How many more years do you have, bound to this elm tree?"

Reaper paused, surprised by his words. "The autumn you turn 37 is the year I will be free." He informed with a tilt of his head.

"Then I shall wait until then to ask." McCree sat there with him, his smile wide and eyes bright, for the first time since he had fled.

XXXXX

The leaves were falling, a sign that it was time for the harvest, and the cool fall air swirled around Jesse as he moved closer to Gabriel.

He had taken up visiting daily, offering Gabriel company, food, and friendship for those 7 long years- another magical number- that they spent together, enjoying the warmth and conversation.

Sometimes around his 33rd birthday was the turning point for his and Gabriel's relationship, 30 years after he met Gabriel, when he caught the man staring at his bare chest, quickly turning away, his mask unfortunately covering any embarrassed expression.

Pup had long since become a wolf, and Jesse offered Reaper solace and companionship after so long of being alone- the other meaning of the card. He offered Gabriel a pack, and Gabriel stopped referring to him as a pup, but instead as an equal. Jesse had changed much over the 3 years he spent in solitude, and 3 years more meant Gabriel had finally noticed the change.

Though he couldn't tell you now, why things happened as they did, or how- the werewolf Jesse McCree had managed to find his place inside of Reaper's broken heart, and with dedication he showed few endeavors in his life, Jesse had romanced him.

It was a week after his 37th birthday, that the magic around the elm tree that drove him to it when he had just been a boy, was suddenly gone, and he looked to Reaper with a knowing smile.

The sword left there by the alchemist is rusted, and the banner was faded and torn

It had been almost 50 years since jack Morrison had died, but not quite, but Gabriel Reyes is allowed to leave, and leaves the mask as his own sign of goodbye, beneath the elm tree.

The elm tree that was his prison and his sanctuary, and the place where he'd fallen in love and lost it- Jesse caught his lover staring up into the falling orange leaves, and wrapped an arm around him.

"I love you." The werewolf whispered, into the ear of the wight, and the man removed his mask, to reveal a tired, worn face instead of a blood-colored void. A skeletal hand found its way and carefully decided whether or not it was going to touch Jesse- but Jesse was not one to be patient. The reaper was afraid, of hurting Jesse, of losing this thing he had now, terribly.

He harvested the produce of his many years worth of coming to know Gabriel Reyes in a possessive kiss.

"Come with me, Gabriel?"

And Gabriel could only nod a yes, because of his tears- for the wolf can be touched by the wight, for undead cannot harm undead-not unless humanity gets involved, and for the first time in 50 years he can physically touch another warm body and not absorb the man's soul.


	3. Act Three

If Jack Morrison, with golden hair and blue eyes bright, had been born on a warm summers night- then 76, with long sharp fangs and hair so white, was formed in the pale winter's light.

The number he went by was significant, in its own way- the sixth of July was the date he had first found Gabriel, and though he had lived in Europe for far longer than his natural lifespan, reading dates as month, and then day was still standard fair for him.

There is power in words, though some attest to the phrase, "sticks and stones may break my bones, but words may never hurt me." Those people are fools, and if you know them to not be, they are not to be trusted.

In exchange for a miracle- his continued existence and his existence transformed; Jack Morrison had to agree to the terms set by the witch, for Jack Morrison had died in the winter, alone in the woods where he'd dragged himself to following some battle in a war that he now viewed as pointless.

And so, for 50 years and a day, he was bound to her in spirit to allow him later to go back to Gabriel, not as a mortal, but as an equal.

Angela was not cruel, of course, but magic is about giving and taking, for all must be in equilibrium. In order for so much to be given, so much must be taken, and in that sense, by the time 76 returns to the mound of the Wight- Gabriel is long gone, and his mask is the only thing still there.

It wasn't that he couldn't have gone back before- Angela had repeatedly tried to force him back, but had never succeeded in making him, especially after the werewolf, Jesse McCree, had returned to Gabriel in his stead.

The vampire sighed, right hand clutching the amaryllis flower he'd brought with him, blood from a fight with a member of the village, from where he'd been partly staked in his left shoulder dripping down his red coat, onto the white snow.

He stared up at the lost moon, reminded of Ana's words, the Egyptian woman he called his best friend even now a ghoul that had only recently come out of her reclusion to once more travel alongside Jack- having died 10 year before.

The rusted sword was gone, just as his ideals of the past and hopes for the future.

His pick of the amaryllis flower was an interesting one, but as he stood there, standing out against the white snow like blood, he found it more fitting than ever.

The story was about a timid maiden named Amaryllis, forever out of her league with a beautiful, if callous man, trying to vie for his favor- that could only be one with presenting to him a new flower. She went to the Oracle, who told her she would create a new flower by piercing her own heart with a golden arrow, and allowing the droplets of blood to fall upon the path she always took to his home. It took some time, but one day she noticed bright red flowers on the path, and she brought them to the man- Alteo, who embraced her and the flowers, and they were named in her namesake.

But 76's blood kept dripping, and there was no Alteo to respond to the declaration of love of Amaryllis. Gabriel was gone. Only his mask, made of bone, was left. He used up his miracle to forever turn away from the sun, just so that he may touch his beloved.

Three ravens sat in the elm tree that Gabriel Reyes had died and been tied to, one staring at Jack, the other stoically looking away, closer to the trunk, and the last, on a far branch, turned away and staring at the moon as well.

This was also not the tragic version of the myth, where the girl herself became the flower, but instead he stood there, and deposited the flower beneath the tree, removing the stake embedded deep in his left shoulder with some prolonged effort.

But there was no removing the metaphorical one Gabriel had shoved in his heart so long ago that now had been twisted in new, painful ways.

And if Jack Morrison died that night, or some other night before or after, is not easily said, but what can be said, is that when 76 met Gabriel Reyes' reborn self, Jack Morrison had been dead for a long, long time.

XXXXX

The last known part of this unfinished tale, ends much as it began- with a man and a woman, old friends, and a set of tarot cards.

"Are you sure you want me to show you your future?" Angela asked, resistant to the idea because she knows what the consequences of knowing the future may lead to those in crisis. Still willing, because of how she also knew how it could shed light on what needed to be done.

She had already patched up his body tonight, she didn't feel like trying to heal any metaphorical injuries this may give him.

"Yes," 76 nodded, determined, his pale hands atop the cards. "I wish to know."

She carefully shuffled the old, worn deck, and laid three cards out, and then flipped them over.

"Justice, the star, and the wheel of fortune," She read them, looking to 76 with a twinkle in her eye.

"That means nothing to me, Angie, you'll have to explain."

"I will- no need to be impatient," She chastised, "Justice is in the past- the decision you made is the key foundation of where you find yourself now. It indicates that you've completely severed yourself from the many possibilities life was offering you, and you're in a new chapter of your life."

Jack thought of Gabriel, of returning to an empty tree. He supposed his decision to wait did bring him here- for Gabriel had no way of knowing he was alive.

"The present is defined by the star- which is interesting, since your past is of Justice. It means that while yes, you've changed significantly and cannot turn back from those choices, you're about to begin making big plans- to have a new idea where your new life will take you. There may be some idealism towards where you're going to go- a new relationship, maybe. It might be different than that of your past, but it will still be good.

That didn't sound entirely bad, and Angela squeezed his hand, knowing him to be listening hard behind his mask.

"And then the wheel of fortune in future position- a reminder that unhappiness shall pass, as all things do. Things change constantly, from the seasons, to ourselves, to our relationships with others. Nothing stays the same. That isn't a bad thing, though it may be unwelcome change that can be disruptive," She finished, and 76 nodded, looking out the window into the night, softening some.

Angela put a hand on his shoulder, humming. "The sun is rising, and night will be over soon- I recommend you get some rest before you decide anything drastic, 76. After all, things change, they ebb and flow, they come and go- its time you remember that."

And the witch went to bed, just as 76 did, once he placed the amaryllis flower back into a vase of water, not wanting it to die yet. It was a symbol of unrequited affections finally being returned, and he felt it would be bad luck to let it die because he refused to give it sustenance it needed to survive.

He would need something to return to, even if it was just a flower. He had to begin nurturing his feelings again, and in what better way than in something that Gabriel had loved so dearly all those years before?

Their story was still left incomplete, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> are they all short? yes. Is it finished. Maybe. make of the ending what you will!!! I'll add it as a sequel if it does have anything else to it ;)


End file.
